


All Body//All Soul

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Edging, Humanstuck, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sadistic Thoughts, Sensory Deprivation, Sibling Incest, Teasing, Unrelated mention of Gamrezi, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23622526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You’re holding a breath in and you only realise you’d taken it because you were giving him a look-over and suddenly the feeling of seeing him brought down is bringing a whole new kind of tension for you, all focus as to how he is all body and how that speaks a private language to you and him only, as you watch him testing his bindings by attempting to roll his wrists within the hold you put on him.
Relationships: Gamzee Makara/Kurloz Makara
Kudos: 15





	All Body//All Soul

It’s Sunday, midday, haze and smoke and color reflected all around your room as it usually is. The lights are still up, curtains drawn, your ritual incense near your bed is lit and letting smoke curl out, and you’re with your brother. Not that anybody would question how much time you’ve been spending with each other or any soul knows much of what either of you have right now, in part because most of the world has forgotten you due to your own making and Gamzee’s contact with his friends is dimmer but still there, just not in a way that they’d care for him now.

Except.. there’s more to it that they’d not think to uncover, such as how you have your hands on his feverish skin in this moment and he’s biting his lip and looking up at you in anticipation as those same lights play on his face. How you’re bringing your black blindfold over his eyes, then back for tying as you bend to kiss the bridge of his nose in reassurance as you tighten it.

 _“Brother, if we’re gonna fucking try this, lay easy on my right side, aite?”_ he warns you when you bring the dark ropes you brought special for this to his right arm to twirl them and set knots. You have no problem with that, know he’s not used to being in the ropes, so you nod and kiss him, reassurance for all it’s worth as he adjusts _. “We do this, we do it right, Gam”,_ you sign slowly. It will be difficult to communicate now but you’re doing your best to slow down your signing, draw your hands out slow against his skin so he understands, easy words and your sign for him. The fact that you’re depriving him of his sight is the bonus here after all.

They’re simple ties, nothing too tight nor complex to not invite trouble but neither too loose. You only do your regulars, knots you’ve used for yourself that are tested and true which you trust your hand for and if there is nervousness in you to do right by him seeing as he offered himself up willingly for your satisfaction this time, it’s melting away when your hands touch his skin again and he inches closer to you in a way it turns the currents in your blood into excitement.

His arms are up, pinned securely and tied to each side of the old single bed you’re both laying on, his legs spread with yours pressing close to his body and your hands finding their way by caressing along his thighs, separating them further. The blindfold is dark enough that he can’t anticipate what you’re going to be doing to him next, can only get lost in the feeling of your hands on his skin. But even if he can’t see you now he can feel your heat close, your body shake with your movements and so he relaxes under your touch visibly.

You’re holding a breath in and you only realise you’d taken it because you were giving him a look-over and suddenly the feeling of seeing him brought down is bringing a whole new kind of tension for you, all focus as to how he is all body and how that speaks a private language to you and him only, as you watch him testing his bindings by attempting to roll his wrists within the hold you put on him, his stomach tensing along as he tries moving his arms where the black ropes have him locked into place next to the bed frame. His legs move then to search for your touch when you get your hands off for a second. There is a brief contact and you’re starting to feel his skin burn up and he’s gorgeous, dark hair framing his face along with the fold as he adjusts.

 _“You’re doing good”_ you sign mindlessly to him after taking in how he’s turning you on and then his brows furrow in frustration for a moment before he’s muttering “ _I’m uncomfortable as all hell_ ” and you give him a look then, amused even if he can’t see it because –Yeah, nobody said feeling the pressure of being tied up would especially be a comfort- Still, you sign against him slow so he catches it that if it’s too much trouble, he needs to tell you, the words are there for him to use.

 _“Still want it?”_ you lean in and he seems to understand the simple touches because he arches up to feel more of you pressing against him and mouths _“Mmhm!”_ in the next kiss you share. He’s wondrous to you, and after kissing him you stop to trace a finger on his lips and think on it. He’d been reluctant to try this – a bad memory of some Pyrope girl you don’t concern yourself with that has tried to pull ropes like this on him once, with no similar intention or bedroom manner but it’s a bad memory all the same to him, so you hadn’t pushed your wants. But in his eagerness to please and his knowing of how you’ve readily surrendered to him and let him lay hands on you, for what roles you’ve been serving to each other for a long time now, for his perceptive read on you for all that you have known each other, he’s sought this from you on his own and asked you to put ties on him tonight. It warms you how he cares for your desires of him. Comes as no surprise. You do lean in with a smile to kiss him again on the corner of his mouth in quiet gratitude and what he has to mouth at you is his impatience. 

_“You gonna touch me, or what?”_ he seeks you hungrily, turning his head and going by his feeling of you . He wants more, this you know. He wants more from how you kiss him as well, long as you’ve been his like this and he’s still shaking a bit in frustration at how you keep your lips slightly shut while they lock on his, understands the vow but still finds you foolish for choosing self-punishment instead of living unhinged, and what the two of you find holy doesn’t coincide in the details but it does in the heart.

He hooks his tongue around one of your piercings in irritation and want and it has you on edge but then he licks around your lips in a show that he can tease you too, which it would be if you couldn’t sense how badly he wants his hands on you, wants yours on him _more_ from the way you see his fingers twitch in the corner of your eye and _fuck_ if that doesn’t get you.

When he is all body, it makes you feel all soul, light and hot and your hands are coming down again to hold onto his hips, digging fingers to press against him and then pulling him up in alignment to you until you feel the unity. You rock down on him slow, you have every intention to wring this out to its fullest, so you unscrew your piercings and set them aside, then finally grind your body down to set a painfully slow pace of pressing hard on him and rocking back up while softly sinking teeth and pressing kisses against the column of his neck. His hitched breaths draw out in long exhales with each of your wetter kisses, the slow bites you give him and incipient winding waves of pleasure, you can feel his every twitch and if makes you draw hot breaths of your own against his neck, over the same spots you’ve kissed. His hands reach out for nothing as he groans. You’ve got him hard and he’s starting to have the same effect on you but it doesn’t matter, you can hold out for this, to see him.

You hear him exhaling an eager “ _Fuck!”_ at you and decide enough teasing’s enough for now before letting your hand draw lines down his body and start feeling out his cock through his clothes. Your hand slides past his underwear easy and you feel him hot and grab him, feel his whole body shaking slightly to get closer to the little relief you’re providing. You pause to make quick work of divesting him of his clothes entirely then, and by the time you wrap your hand around him and start pumping him in full you’re hearing him breathe out a hot exhale of _“Oh”_ and _“Yes”._ You alternate between letting your hands work him faster, really feeling him out from base to tip with a hand you’ve wet and slowing it down and back to a teasing rhythm to have you both still breathless. You have him moaning softly, pushing up for more, as much as he can with you holding his hips down and you let him have that sweetness but not enough to get off yet.

It’s perfect, the way he’s arching slightly, chest rising and falling and you note with pride that the binding you have him in is holding its weight well and your brother seems to be enjoying himself if his lost expression is anything to go by. It’s all making it a challenge not to want to get inside him and have him hard and fast, but that is not what you’re looking for today. With your free hand you try signing small words against his leg the best you manage _“So sweet, Gam. You’re so good, brother”._

A thought strikes you and you let his hips go free from under you, ask him _“Can you move?”_ and getting a breathless _“Yeah”_ out of him. You’re being indulgent with it because you want to see him desperate and trying to fuck himself under your grasp, but he’s letting you and seems to catch your drift. When he starts moving, you’re still touching him but now that you’ve let go of his legs he’s thrusting up to meet your hand. It’s as he starts moaning your name at the same time that has you gasping and leaning down to kiss him hard and swallow his sounds as you keep working him, feeling him fuck himself through your fingers. You love how he feels twitching around your palm, so hot under your hand and you tell him as much. He nods, you’re sending a constant pressure on his cock, so he doesn’t have the time to think of much else. You’re trying to touch him the way you know he likes, he’s told and shown you he can handle rough and your hand picks up the pace for you. It doesn’t take long until he’s pleasing at you. _“Fuck!.. S’ good! Wanna come! Loz, Please”_

You know you shouldn’t but you want to show him it can be even better, tease him mad and desperate because that was the deal, that you’re going to take your sweet time, because you want to see him unravel- _the thought that one day you may see him lost in ecstasy for you with as little of your touch as possible has you pausing to compose yourself_ – and with that in mind you slow down your touch again.

He hisses at you and gives a choked moan and you try soothing him with kisses he tries to bite your lips for. He’s frustrated and on edge but not opting out, the safewords are there but he’s not using them, so you’ll keep bringing him to the brink.

You’re looking for something in him, you know, seeing his raw demeanour and the look on his face makes you feel more whole. Seeing him struggle in the binds and his own body sparks an old fire in you and you’re put hot out of your mind. You want the blindfold off him, so you take it. Then his eyes are on you, suddenly, dark and rich like yours above flushed cheeks and you’re still touching him hands on but he almost makes you pause again-the contract of cheapness and charm and how he’s effortlessly naked and there. Shouldn’t be anything beautiful about this - _the sleepless nights, his and your loneliness from before, wondering if all of this is so wrong, knowing it is, knowing if at any point he wants to leave you behind you’ll have to let him go_ \- but there is this, he always wants to be there, here he _is_ and you don’t yet figure how you can have this so easily.

That he wants this, that you expected him to deny you most things but he’s treating you with the same love as when he’s always touched you while you’re now touching him makes it realer, makes you nod your approval through a messy kiss when he mouths profanity once more and tells you he can’t get enough of you. _Hell,_ you can’t _either_ \- it’s you who’s brought down more often than not by feeling so much for your brother.

When your passion comes out you don’t have your good control on it, though, and a darker thought starts crossing you, you feel your lust rising with the vision of you scratching his arms and chest up, choking him until he’s crying, fucking him deep and you feel your heart drumming against your rib cage in the knowledge that if you squeeze harder, your right hand is closely hovering on his neck now, is it going to leave him with some choice bruises that you do kind of want to see? You never want to take this out on him, but who else who won’t break? He knows by the growl he’s giving you and the needy reminders of _“Fucks sake! Don’t hold back!”_ that he wants you to follow up on that, even if that means you want to watch him broken, choking and begging and crying and voicing more of his desires like faith. You shake your head to snap out of it, battle with yourself and find compromise in putting your tongue and teeth against his neck and kissing up a bruising storm from his collarbone to the tip of his ears that has him turning to bite at your lips when he’s caught them.

That wasn’t what you discussed before getting to it and you’re not about to get greedier than this at his expense, don’t want to admit you’re too scared sometimes to follow those urges. You know he can hear you be affected now by your moves and by your breath, and it’s his turn to chuckle at you but he’s back to full on moaning , head thrown back to hit the wall softly as you let caution to the wind and get your hands wet and touching him hard and fast again. He’d been on edge for a while and he’s biting his hip and there must be some pain mixed in with the pleasure, so you lean in.

 _“Let go_ ” you do your one-handed sign to him against his skin once more and go to smooth his hair and kiss him deeper and you realise you’re saying it for the both of you. It’s not just body, it’s part soul. He comes and you’re thinking it’s more than this. You meant ‘ _Cry out if it hurts. You give me something to see himself in. Gave me something to connect us that I can kiss and unite for us both_ ’ It all goes unspoken but you know he understands.

When he’s come down he slumps forward on you and you hold him close to your heart and he lifts up to press his forehead to yours. You think him wondrous, and you kiss him silly until you’re laughing and he fusses. He complains about his wrists after you untie him and you check him for bruises to find out it’s all quite fine. You’re oddly satisfied, still undone but you insist despite his tired offers to reciprocate you’ll be fine, you got more than you wanted.

There’s still a lot you need to get done and it isn’t as though the world feels any less hopeless next to your brother, but he makes it worth it. He mirrors to you the yearning for things that you have sometimes, that fear that you may not ever get what you need and so you’ll hold him for the both of you for as long as you can to prove that wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure someone somewhere will appreciate this controversial and slightly syrupy take about sinning in broad daylight. If it's not your thing, don't be here, click away. Maybe one day I will be writing more of them and hopefully it's not too melodramatic. Peace!


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